My Band
by MiraClarinet
Summary: When I leave band, who is left? Do they love this band like I do? New chapter added: You are my Section
1. My Band

_**So, I was reflecting on what will happen when I graduate high school, even though I still have two years. I just thought I would post this, because I thought it was fairly poetic.**_

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_My band._

The simplest words in the history of my life, yet they have so much meaning. "My band" is not just something I say when bragging. It isn't just something a drum major says when explaining to another how they do something. It has more meaning, a life behind.

My band.

I've been in marching band, well, in high school, for only two years. Yet whenever I reflect on the time I will leave the school I know as a second home, I see a band that belongs to me. I look at their faces and feel pride.

I look at those who have joined since I joined, those who have graduated. I look at those who were there before me, towering over me with their seniority. I've seen what it is like to be new to the band, to see other people and believe it is their band. Bt it isn't their band. It is our band. It is my band.

But what about when I leave? Will it still be my band, or will it belong to those younger then me?

I plan on going on to college and being in band there, and then going on to being a band director. But will my college band be the same? Will my new band as a director be different then being in the band? Will I ever get the feeling of "my band" again? Years later, will I return, and look at the old pictures strung up on the wall, the sun reflecting off the golden buttons of our green and black uniforms with the gold lightning bolts, our eyes squinting in the sunlight, and remember my band? Will I remember the faces of old friends, old enemies? Will I see the eyes of the younger members, and think to myself what they were like when I left?

To those younger members, to all those who will follow my footsteps, I send you a message.

Though everyone you have looked up to has left, you are still there. Now, people look up to you, when you once looked up to us. They see in your eyes wisdom. You see in their eyes what I saw in yours. A mixture of fear, excitement. One day, when you are gone, you will look at the pictures you were once part of. Someday, you will tell someone what I tell you now.

This is your band now. Your hands will continue to mold the band, your strength pulling the scare and the nervous from their pits. Those of us who have left have no control over your band.

It is your band.

_Your band._


	2. You are my Section

_**Haven't updated this in a while. Mostly because every time I try to write one like this it becomes a poem…**_

_**This is a mix between a message of love to my section and a letter to a freshman. **_

_**Story: I tried out for drum major this past year for the coming season. At my school, drum majors are auditioning for drum major and section leader. From my section it was me, a freshman everyone knew wouldn't make drum major, another sophomore like me who was only auditioning for section leader and was probably my biggest competition, and another freshman who was also really good and auditioning for section leader.**_

_**I did not do well in my conducting audition, and was cut from the drum major interviews. However, this meant my chances at section leader were still as high as anybody else. On results day, we found I had made section leader. This did not make the good freshman happy. I know it wasn't so much as she didn't get it, but that I did. Since that, she has been making my life miserable.  
**__**It started with stuff I didn't really care about.**_

_**I was in both band classes, as was she. For the end of year concert, I had second parts and one first part. This was only because I had gone on the Anaheim trip, where only two people had first parts, which was the section leader for that year and the sophomore who had auditioned for section leader. Well, the freshman had not gone on Anaheim trip. Since both first parts were only in the higher band, unlike us, she was given first parts to make up for lack of them. **_

_**Me and her sat on the front row, just us. Well, she got angry, because I would always sit in the "first chair" spot, because technically I was, even though I didn't have all first parts. This was minor thing 1. She stole the spot. This did not make me very angry, before you all start going off "its just a chair". It is just a chair. Which is why I don't see why it mattered so much to her. This was after her chewing me out about it. **_

_**Anyway, that same day, we were working on the song I had first on, so we were sharing music. My music. The stand was a bit far away for me, so I moved it over just a bit. She moved it even farther away. I kind of thought nothing of it, and just tilted it so I could see. She tilted it back, once again farther. Which left me playing from memory on a song we had only gotten photocopies of the day before. **_

_**Then we shared a stand on graduation, because our director switched me to all first parts for that, and she had all firsts. When it was over, she asked me to get her chair and stand. I said no, but she walked away anyway. And nobody would help me, and I wasn't allowed to make two trips. If I left the chair and stand there, I would get in trouble. So I had to carry two chairs, a stand, and my clarinet. She is so lucky that when I dropped my clarinet accidentally that it landed in grass, and therefore did not break. It was my nice 80 year old wooden clarinet Kiki too. That I might add has been in my family for over 50 of those 80- years.**_

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You are my section._**

You may get on my nerves, but you are still mine. Like a child, or a sister. At times I wish you dead, but at others, I'm glad your by my side.

Everyone hates their siblings. But deep down, we all know we love them. We would do anything for them. We know it. We deny it, but we know it.

Sometimes, we may ask for something, and not get it. Then, when our sibling asks for the same thing, nobody hesitates. It makes us angry. It always does. We want revenge. We want what they have. We wont stop until we get it. We won't be nice until they are broken, it is broken.

You continue to fight. The object is destroyed.

Sometimes, we may audition for something. We may want it real bad. Just like the object. We audition and do our best. We don't get it. Then, another of your section auditions for the same spot. They get it. This makes us angry. It always does. We want revenge. We want that spot. We won't stop until we get it. We won't be nice until they are broken., the section is against them as you are.

You continue to fight, and they lose the sections trust. But now its impossible to fix. The section is rebellious. They trust no one. They listen to no one.

All because one person made them think it was alright to not listen. To rebel.

Now you look at that object. The broken one. You know its all your fault. Your sibling cries. You feel bad.

Now you look at your section.

The rebellious one. The ruined one.

You know its all your fault. Your section leader cries. They are broken, but everything you wanted so bad is broken too. Now none of you can have it. And now, your section sibling is upset as well.

Your sibling didn't mean to make you upset. They didn't know how badly you wanted that object.

You are my section.

I don't want to hurt you. I didn't know how badly you wanted this spot.

I've worked for it too. We both did. We all did. I did not get it just to make you angry. I did not try just because I wanted to hurt you. I wanted it. Is that wrong? You wanted it too. If I am wrong, does that make you wrong?

You are my section.

I love you. All of you. You may get on my nerves, but I still love you.

I will always love you.

You are my brothers and sisters. You are my sons and daughters. We are family. We were all born from mother Music and father Band. We are all connected by our love of mother and father. We are connected. We are one.

You are my section.

And I love you.

I always will.

_**Dedicated to: Brittany my unlisted assistant, Savannah the little sister I never had, Manny the handful, Seamus even though he left us, Mckenzie the spaztastic freshy, Tim the slim jim, Rachel the new girl on the block, James the sunless shadow, Josh the gentle giant on bass clarinet, and all those freshman coming in that I don't know yet! I 3 you all!**_

_**Its kinda sad that my authors note is longer then the chapter…**_


	3. Can I do it?

**Two updates in a day. I'm on a role. This is about being section leader. Seeing as I found that when I tell people that I'm not sure I can do something, it somehow makes me feel like a I can, I shall complain to you all how much I think I'm going to mess up!**

**Not really. Kind of. I know I can, but there is that little bit of doubt. And the nervousness. And the terrified feeling that I am indeed going to mess up and become another Miranda, our section leader last year who could have been a bit more…helpful. **

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Can I do it?

Will I make them proud? Will I stand up to the pressure of the eyes on my every movement, watching me and replicating what I do to better themselves?

Can I do it?

Can I teach them how to be a member of my band?

They look up to me. I stand as their mother, and they are my babies. Like a baby to its mother, I teach them how to speak. How to play. I teach them how to walk, how to march. I teach them how to stand on their feet, how to stand tall and proud. I teach them how to teach others, that they one day might take my spot.

My fear is their captive. My love is their confidence.

Can I do it?

They will call me leader. I am who they look up to. I am who they will come to for help.

Can I do it?

Do I know enough myself to teach them what they don't?

I must work hard to earn their respect. I must fight to hide my fear. I must be confident. I must be strong. I must be proud.

I have weaknesses. Everyone does. But it is my job to hide those, to overcome them.

I can do it.

If I try.


	4. There all Along

_**Hm, this isn't that great. Its another of these little poetic one-shots. **_

_**This particular one is kind of a life story. So I hope you like, but won't be hurt if you don't. Like I said, it didn't turn out very good.**_

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I always felt left out; a loner amidst a sea of friendships. Nobody would come near me. Nobody knew my name. I secluded myself in little alcoves at lunch, avoiding human contact as if every other student had contracted the Black Plague.

I was a social outcast, and it was all because of elementary bullies.

I had never thought that one thing could change my life forever, even when it had been right under my nose.

It wasn't until middle school that I stopped to smell the rose. Until then, I had never stopped to see what life held for me. I focused on the bad things, on the social torture I endured that sent me home in tears each day.

What changed things?

_Music._

Band became my home. It became my life and began to consume my time. My idea of an 'easy A' had actually become something I lived for, somewhere I belonged. I understood music better then I understood anything.

How had it taken me so long to find the music? It had been in my heart. My family was music orientated, with a grandfather a skilled bassoonist despite his death in early elementary, and a mother who had been an avid band geek in her school years. How could I miss such a great thing?

All my life I had been searching for what was missing. In reality, it had been there.

My friends had left me over and over, but music; it had been there all along.


End file.
